


christmas at the end of the world

by restless5oul



Series: yesterday we were just children [15]
Category: Formula 1 RPF, GP2 Series RPF, Motorsport RPF
Genre: All The Ships, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Christmas, Clothes Sharing, Cold Weather, Drabble Collection, Festive fic, Fluff, Kissing, Multi, Picnics, Snowball Fight, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-17 19:29:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13083795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/restless5oul/pseuds/restless5oul
Summary: a drabble collection of what christmas is like when the world is ending.





	1. cold hands.

**Author's Note:**

> i just really wanted to do an xmas themed fic, so this is just basically a bunch of short drabbles all grouped together in one fic, they're not really linked, though they all take place at a similar time. they won't make much sense unless you've read other fics in this series. and i've kept it light on the angst too! for once lol.

It took Jüri a while to notice the lack of warmth in the bed, the missing arm around his torso and the body that didn’t occupy the other half of the mattress. Eyes still half closed, he reached a hand out behind him, feeling only the thin blanket that was wrapped around his body. So he turned over, still half stuck in sleep, and wrenched open his eyes to look across the dark tent. The camp bed on the other side of the room was empty as it always was – Charles and Juan had switched tents when Mick had been discharged from the hospital, it just made sense – but the blankets that were usually there were missing. Through the darkness Jüri saw the dim glow of the heater, lighting up a tiny portion of the tent, and in front of it he could make it out a figure, holding up his hands towards it.

“Juan?” he said, his voice confused and tired, as he sat up, rubbing at his face.

He could tell it was Juan by the way he moved when he turned around, though he could scarcely see his face, and now he could see that he had taken the spare blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders. Instead of reaching over to turn on the light, Jüri reluctantly pulled himself from the bed, feeling the cold night air bite at the parts of his bare skin that were exposed.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m cold,” Juan said, his voice quiet, and Jüri could hear the shivers in it as he fought to supress his own.

Before he approached, Jüri reached over to pick up a red woollen jumper that was slung over the chair next to the bed, and carried it with him over to his best friend.

“It would help if you didn’t insist on sleeping shirtless,” Jüri laughed, handing him the jumper before sitting down next to him.

He had to admit that it was much better next to the heater than stuck in the bed on the other side of the tent. That winter had hit England hard. And on a number of mornings Jüri had to trudge through a dusting of snow and frost as he made his way through the camp each day. The cold jarringly reminded him of home. And he hadn’t decided if he thought that was a good or a bad thing. But he reminisced anyway.

Juan had pulled on the jumper and was back to holding his hand up in front of the rusty and dysfunctional heater. Jüri tugged the blanket out from the grip of his right hand so they could both sit under it.

“How do you cope?” Juan asked, and Jüri looked at his face to see the orange of the heater reflected in his eyes. If he squinted a little it almost looked like fire, just like the one he’d had in the hearth in his old living room. It made him feel soft inside, like someone had lit a fire in his chest, and that feeling only intensified when Juan turned to face him, smiling a little, “What are you made of that means you don’t feel the cold?”

“I do feel it,” he chuckled, slipping his hands up the front of Juan’s jumper and placing them so they hooked themselves round his shoulders, laughing a little louder when Juan yelped at the sensation of his cold palms against his slightly warmer skin. Jüri rested his chin on his shoulder, pressing his lips to the side of his neck.

“I’m not made for winter,” Juan complained, and even though he couldn’t see his face anymore Jüri could feel the pout in his voice.

“No you’re not,” Jüri murmured into his neck, his eyes fluttering shut as he felt the pull of sleep again.

“Being here makes it worse,” Juan mumbled, clearly in the mood to whine about something.

“It’s not _that_ bad.”

“It’s just…”

He never finished his sentence but he did sigh, and Jüri could feel the defeatism in his body and hear it in his voice. Juan often worked himself into moods like these. Usually when he thought too hard about what was going on. Jüri would look at him from across a room and he could practically see his brain ticking as he racked up a huge list of reasons why everything was shit.

“Stop it,” he scolded, shuffling closer, wrapping his legs around either side of Juan so he could press his chest against his back, holding him tighter, before he started rambling, hoping he would stumble across something which would make him feel better, “You’re forgetting that all the best things happen in winter. Like Christmas and…”

He was glad Juan interrupted him because he wasn’t entirely sure that he had another example.

“Like that time you kissed me at Marcus’ Christmas party?” Juan suggested, his tone lighter and teasing. Despite himself Jüri blushed a little, even though Juan couldn’t see his face.

“Yes like that,” he mumbled. They had been fifteen and stupid, and Jüri would swear until the end of his days that there had been something in that punch. Something that had given him the insane idea to pull his best friend into the bathroom, push him against the locked door and kiss him stupid.

“I never asked you why you did that,” Juan said turning a little so he could see Jüri’s face but it was hard when he was trapped between his arms and legs. They hadn’t done much talking about things like that until very recently. The kiss had changed the way they acted when they were alone. But they had never considered that they were anything more than best friends having fun. Not until things had gotten more serious and they discovered that they had a bit of growing up to do.

“I just wanted to see what it would feel like,” Jüri shrugged, though he knew that wasn’t entirely true. He pressed his lips to the little patch of exposed shoulder where his jumper had fallen down, smiling into the cool skin.

“And how did it feel?” Jüri didn’t need to look up to know Juan was smirking.

“Not bad,” he said kissing him again, this time a little nearer his neck.

“Not bad?” Juan asked, laughing a little like he didn’t believe him, his torso vibrating a little as he did so. Jüri kissed him for a third time, earning himself a satisfied hum from the back of Juan’s throat.

“Well you weren’t a very good kisser back then.”

“Oh really?”

“You’re much better now. Must have been all that practice.”

 Feeling warmer now he had Juan’s body pressed against his, Jüri made to stand up, attempting to pull Juan up with him. He kept his hands pressed to his chest under the slightly scratchy jumper but he was facing him now, the blanket falling off their shoulders and onto the floor.

“Practice hm?” Juan wrapped one arm around Jüri’s waist and resting the other on the side of his face.

“Yup. We could do some to warm you up if you like?” Jüri suggested innocently.

“Sounds good to me.”


	2. stargazing.

“Stoff where on earth are you taking me?” Pierre said, trying not to shiver as he clutched onto his boyfriend’s hand.

It was dark out, and Pierre could only vaguely see where they were going by virtue of the torch that Stoffel held in his other hand. He glanced behind him to see the camp sprawled out behind them, a few patches of light visible throughout the tents and buildings. They had been climbing up the hill for the past few minutes, but he couldn’t see well enough to see if they were near the top. Pierre didn’t know whether it was wise to be so far from camp. Though the zombies didn’t tend to come so close there was always the risk that they would stumble upon a lone creature.

That evening, instead of coming into the tent and dragging Pierre to the canteen to get dinner – which usually took some time since he tended to prefer to bury his head under the sheets and doze, whether because of his mood, or because his day had tired him out. But that day, Stoff had ordered him to wrap up warm and had drag him out of the camp, slipping out the front gate, sneaking past the guards until they were clear of their line of sight. It was bitingly cold outside, too cold for the snow that had been intermittently falling over the past couple of weeks, so Pierre was glad for the two jumpers and thick coat that he had shoved on.

“It’s not too much further!” Stoff called over his shoulder.

Stoffel led him over the crest of the hill, and at the top Pierre saw that he had laid out a blanket, surrounded by a dozen or so candles, giving the whole place a soft glow, finished off by the light of a small gas lamp. He felt himself draw in a breath and stare, surprised and pleased all at once.

“Merry Christmas Pear,” Stoffel said softly, pressing a cold kiss to his cheek.

Still lost for words, Pierre let himself be led over to the blanket, spotting the backpack sitting on the edge of the blanket. The ground was still uneven beneath him as he sat, but he couldn’t care in that moment. He was too overwhelmed by how much he adored his boyfriend in that moment. So

“You didn’t have to do all of this,” he whispered as Stoffel pulled two flasks out of the backpack.

He emptied the contents into two separate travel mugs and handed one to Pierre, who blew the steam off the top of it. He recognised it as the soup that had been served in the canteen for yesterday’s dinner, but he wouldn’t dream of complaining about that.

“Look,” Stoffel said, placing the mug down in front of him as he waited for it to cool, “This year has been so incredibly mental and horrible, and I don’t think we’ll ever go through something worse than the things we did this year. So I just wanted to do something good for you.”

Pierre felt his eyes mist up, and he swallowed hard to stop himself from actually crying. Stoffel was looking at him so earnestly, that he couldn’t help but smile as he felt his heart swell inside his chest.

“Thank you,” he said, “Although you know it’s not Christmas for a few days yet.”

“I know. But tonight was the best time to do this,” he pointed a finger up towards the sky and added, “Look.”

Pierre tilted his head upwards and say that the night sky, now almost completely dark was lit up with more stars than he had ever seen in his entire life. The decrease in pollution had cleared the skies and the multitude of lights painted across the black canvas almost took his breath away.

“Wow,” he breathed and looked back down to see Stoffel chuckling at his expression.

Once the two of them had finished their soup they settled down on the blankets, their sides pressed together and their fingers intertwined. Pierre didn’t know if it was because he was finding something beautiful in their new ugly world, or whether it was just because he was with Stoffel but he felt more at ease in those moments than he had in months. He could have easily laid there for the rest of his life.

“Thank you, again,” Pierre said, squeezing Stoffel’s hand.

“I love you,” Stoffel said by way of reply, rolling over so he could wrap one arm around Pierre and rest his head on his chest, “Here’s to hoping next year is better than this one.”


	3. snow.

Maxi jolted awake, sitting bolt upright as his ears picked up a dull thud against the canvas of his tent. His heart was beating wildly as he glanced around, but he couldn’t see anything. He could tell it was light outside, brighter than usual in fact, and he could hear people moving around and starting their days. He had just about convinced himself that he had imagined the noise when it happened again, something hitting against the side of the tent.

“What the-?” he mumbled, swinging his legs out from under the blanket so he could go and investigate. But just as he did so he heard the familiar sound of someone unzipping the tent and Callum’s head appeared through the gap in the material.

He was grinning, his nose and cheek bright pink supposedly from the cold outside, but he looked happy despite the fact he was clearly freezing. Although Callum usually had to get up hours before Maxi did, he rarely came to see him before work.

“Morning!” he said cheerily as he let himself into the tent, zipping it shut behind him,

“Um, morning,” Maxi replied, sounding confused, but pleased to see him all the same.

He was bundled up tight, having eventually been given a coat, and had one of Maxi’s scarves wrapped around his neck, a woollen hat on his head and a pair of gloves on his hands so thick that they made his hands look twice as large.

“I have good news,” Callum smiled wider, if that was even possible, as he practically jumped on the end of Maxi’s bed, who just raised his eyebrow by way of a question, “No work for you today!”

“What?” Maxi asked, sure he hadn’t heard right. He hadn’t had a single day where he hadn’t been given something to do since he’d arrived at the camp, and even more so since they had finally established a connection with several other places across Europe.

“Yeah. There’s too much snow, the aerial isn’t getting a signal.”

“Too much snow?”

“Yeah! Have you not seen outside?”

“No you woke me up,” Maxi laughed. Callum seemed to remember this as he started chuckling at himself too. Then he grabbed at Maxi’s hand and he was just able to feel his fingers clutching at his through the thick material of the glove.

“Oh yeah, that’s why I woke you up,” he tugged at his hand, pulling him to his feet, “Come on and get ready.”

Maxi didn’t think he’d ever seen Callum look so enthused about something as he was at the prospect of snow. But there was something incredibly attractive about the idea of losing themselves in something as childlike and innocent as playing in the snow. If he had been on his own Maxi would have probably thought little of it, and tried to continue his monotonous routine, scared that if he stopped then he would wake up the next morning unable to keep going. But Callum’s smiling face awoke the sense of fun in him.

“Ok, give me five minutes.”

Maxi changed hurriedly, trying not to blush as Callum just sat on his bed watching him. He didn’t seem to be in the mood to do anything other than pull him out of that tent as quickly as possible. He couldn’t help but laugh as he dragged him through the tents until they reached the larger clearing in between the makeshift garage and the rest of the buildings. And they weren’t the first ones there. The camp was largely made up of people around Maxi’s age or a little older, save for those in charge, so perhaps he shouldn’t have been surprised. Callum was right about the snow too, it was at least a foot deep, and it had been tiring enough attempting to walk through it.

“I thought you hated the cold,” Maxi said as Callum bent down to scoop up a mound of snow into his hands.

“Yeah but not snow,” Callum said, his eyes fixed on patting the snow into a perfect ball in his hands, speaking as though what he said made perfectly logical sense.

“You’re mental,” Maxi leant down so he could press a kiss to his cheek, smiling at the way it took him by surprise, making him flush.

“Hey Callum!” someone called, and Maxi looked up to see someone waving at him from a few feet away. The boy approached, shorter than Callum and with the widest smile Maxi thought he had ever seen, the kind that took over his whole face, making his eyes crinkle kindly. Maxi thought he vaguely recognised him, but he had certainly never been introduced.

“This is Jack,” Callum said once the boy was close enough, “He’s the other carrier pigeon like me.”

“And you must be Maxi,” Jack said, extending his gloved hand which Maxi shook, “Callum doesn’t shut up about you.”

Maxi glanced at the boy to his left, who was currently staring at his feet as he shuffled them, burrowing them deeper into the snow. He guessed he was probably embarrassed, but that little sentence made his heart feel like it was about to burst.

“Jack!” one of the other boys in the clearing shouted, and the three of them turned to look at a very tall and lanky boy who was gesticulating at Jack, “You’re supposed to be on _my_ team!”

“We’re on teams now?” a shorter boy to his right asked, holding a snowball in each of his hands.

“I guess so,” the sixth boy shrugged, and promptly launched the snowball he was holding at the back of Callum’s head, a perfect shot that knocked his hat forward and sent ice dripping down his back. He yelped and spun round to retaliate.

Maxi was sure he hadn’t laughed so much since he arrived at the camp. Even if Callum ended up using him as a human shield most of the time that they were being pelted with snowballs, and he couldn’t feel his hands or feet. He definitely had snow in places snow had no right being, but he couldn’t have cared less. It was good to forget.

The snowball fight ended when Jack knocked the tall, skinny boy who was was supposed to be his teammate, onto his back, and the two of them ended up wrestling around in the snow rather than trying to fight anyone else. Maxi couldn’t decide whether they were flirting or arguing. But in the end he decided that it was probably a little bit of both.

“I’m freezing,” Callum finally said, as Maxi had expected him to.

“Let’s go get some tea from the canteen then, we can leave those two to it,” one of his friends suggested, and they walked towards the canteen and away from the brawling pair.

“Thank you,” Maxi said to Callum as he attempted to brush some snow from his hair.

“For what?” Callum looked up at him, frowning lightly in confusion.

“Just everything,” he said, smiling and wrapping an arm around him as they walked.


	4. christmas card.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is sickly sweet. just a warning.

Mick didn’t see Charles when he first came in. He had his face turned away from where he was standing, and if it wasn’t for the stiff way he held himself then he might have thought he was sleeping. But the huge cast on his left leg made it impossible for him to relax when he was awake, the pain always lingering. After the bone had been set properly and he had gotten properly warmed up, they couldn’t afford to let him stay in the hospital for more than a week. Not that Mick had any desire to stay there. And Charles could see he was miserable there, not that his mood had improved much once he was out. He was practically bedbound, even with the pair of old crutches they had given him. Which was why Charles hoped that the note he held in his hand would help.

“Hey,” Charles said, shrugging off his coat and lying it across the back of the chair before kicking his shoes off. Mick turned to face him, a tentative smile on his face.

“Hey. Busy day?” Mick asked, sitting up a little, moving his pillows to prop himself up.

Charles’ work had got a lot more full on recently. Since they’d established regular contact with Switzerland, they’d found camps in Milan, Berlin and Marseille as well. Charles days were spent translating the French and Italian messages they got, and helping man the radios at the more unsociable hours. Mick was always there when he got back. Though Charles worried that he didn’t get up to much while he was gone.

“Always.”

Careful to avoid his leg, Charles climbed over to the other side of the bed, so he could sit on Mick’s good side, the two of them squished in side by side.

“What have you got there?” Mick asked, nodding to the piece of paper Charles held in his hand. He turned so he could press his face into Charles’ chest, looking up at him through his eyelashes. Charles had to resist the urge to kiss him just because he looked so pretty.

“A Christmas card. For you,” Charles grinned.

“For me?” Mick sat up a little, looking surprised and perplexed.

“Yeah, from your sister. Maxi helped me translate it,” Charles said, watching as Mick’s expression changed. He looked more serious all of a sudden, but not quite upset, yet not happy either, “Do you want to read it?”

Mick settled back down onto his chest again, leaning back against him so Charles couldn’t see his face.

“Read it to me.”

Charles unfolded the note, and began to read the words written in Maxi’s tall, neat script.

_Dear Mick,_

_I know that at it’s this time of year that you’ll be thinking of us most, we’re all thinking of you. It feels wrong to not be together at Christmas. I can’t even imagine you not running into my bedroom at the crack of dawn to wake me up – even though you’re way too old to be doing that, I know you still would._

Mick laughed here, a genuine warm laugh.

_I hope wherever you are, and however it is there, that you still get to enjoy Christmas. Mum and Dad miss you so much, barely an hour goes buy when they don’t mention you, or think about you – I can see it all over their faces. I do the same._

_I love you. Mum and Dad love you. And we’ll see you soon, I promise you._

_All my love,_

_Gina_

Mick didn’t say anything for a few moments after Charles stopped reading and folded up the letter. A little uncertain about how to gauge his reaction, Charles slowly wound his arms around Mick’s torso, hugging him into his chest. That seemed to bring him back to reality,

“She’s right, I used to love Christmas,” he finally said, and Charles could hear the smile in his voice. Though he still sounded somewhat melancholic.

“It’s Christmas Eve tomorrow,” Charles wasn’t sure what his point was, and he watched Mick take the letter from his hand, tracing over the letters with his fingers, like he could feel his sister’s voice in the pencilled letters.

“I wish I could get you something,” he added.

“No, no, you don’t need to. _This_ is enough,” he said, shaking the letter in his hand to show that was what he was referring to, “ _You’re_ enough.”

Charles just made a soft sound at his words, his grip around Mick slackening in his mild shock. Mick sat up, trying to turn as best he could with his heavily strapped ankle, so he could look at Charles.

“I’ve never had anyone like you. All that stuff you know, the tree, the presents, the turkey,” he laughed a little, “I used to care so much about all those things. But now I’d rather have you than that.”

Charles smiled, unsure what to do but listen to Mick. In the end he didn’t have to decide, Mick locked their fingers together, their palms pressed against one another. And he had one more thing to say;

“I think I love you.”

If Charles had been surprised before, that was nothing compared to now. Not that he didn’t know that was how Mick felt, he had suspected it for some time. But to hear him say it was something else entirely.

“I love you too.”

Somehow, given the tiny bed, Mick managed to lean across and kiss him. Even though they’d done this more times than he could count, there would always be something about it that would take his breath away.

“So better than any Christmas present?” Charles asked, running his hand along Mick’s jaw, smiling at the way that he leant into the touch.

“Much,” he laughed, picking up the letter that he had dropped when he had kissed Charles, considering it for a moment, “Do you think I could send one back? I want them to hear from me before Christmas.”

“Yeah I’m sure you can.”

“I want to tell them about everything,” he said tilting his head so he could lean it on Charles’ shoulder, “Well, maybe not everything. But about you. And this.”

He pointed towards his bandaged foot, chuckling a little.

“Good idea.”


End file.
